Abdullah Ali Abbasi Period 4 October 27, 2022 Descriptive Writing - Tiger GRRR... GRRR... GRRR... In the pristine, raw jungles of the heavily-forested, tropical island of Sumatra in the vast, great expanse of the large, sprawling nation of Indonesia, an increasingly boisterous, shocking noise is suddenly heard by every land-based, non-amphibious animal as well as each winged, flying bird. In the shadowed, sun-choking canopy a monstrous, vicious beast is preparing for its next meat-based, unlucky meal. The carrot-colored, large tiger forcefully descriptively shakes the expansive, scared (personification) region like it is a full exciting easter egg, inadvertently allowing other tiny, vulnerable creatures to make haste and not waste as they rapidly run for the green magnificent hills, of which there are many. MMMM... MMMM... The smell of delicious, fresh DOMINO’S PESTO CRUST PIZZA has been slowly and softly wafting through the pure, jungly air for some time now, confusing the orange, carnivorous beast as if it was newly-installed, gray barbed wire. Unbeknownst to the massive, predatory carnivore, a small, proud group of native, Indonesian hunters is camping in its very own, expansive territory, hoping to catch the dreadful, tangerine-colored animal which has previously eaten many of their vulnerable, unknowing countrymen. However right now the proud, Indonesian hunters sleep in their tiny, temporary hut with an empty, cardboard pizza box next to them, not knowing how close they are to a potential, amazing catch and hypothetical, self-aware glory. Whirr... Whirr... The hideous, seeing mouth of the orange, ferocious tiger holds many secrets, for instance its sharp, white teeth foreshadow the possible end of its long, violent life or of the proud, Indonesian hunters’ long, tough lives. In this tropical, long-lasting battle, only one Abdullah Ali Abbasi Period 4 October 27, 2022 of the two armed, dangerous belligerents will survive another sickly, muggy week in the tropical, wet region, which neither sees a muggy, humid summer nor a cold, snowy winter, but only the wet and dry seasons. Right now the white, sharp teeth have been cleaned by the common, unstopping monsoon rains, but at other times they are caked with the dead, remaining flesh of unfortunate, dead animals. PR. PR. PR. PR. As the hideous, striped animal prowls the old, ancient forest, every other small, vulnerable creature feels its eminent , noticeable presence, like that of a yellow, glass lightbulb that is turned on. The light-speed, all-colored rays of the yellow, hot sun have not yet started making its way down to the beastly, orange tiger, but even if it was day, very few warm, light rays would make it through the thick, green leaves of the rough, choking canopy which chokes the light out in much the same manner as if a metal, gray vise were to be choking an unfortunate, small object in its metal, gray jaws. The Indonesian, armed hunter looks back, waves, and bids farewell, not knowing what may come next.